


Violet

by cuubism



Series: sky colors [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gallows Humor, M/M, Pre-Canon, References to Depression, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23870863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuubism/pseuds/cuubism
Summary: Alec goes to the Brooklyn Bridge fully intending to throw himself off it, only to find he's not the only one there with that goal. Magnus wants to die, and doesn't appreciate this Shadowhunter interrupting him.(or, sometimes it's easier to help someone else than it is to help yourself)
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: sky colors [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848601
Comments: 53
Kudos: 461
Collections: Hunter's Moon Fic Recs





	Violet

**Author's Note:**

> as mentioned in the tags and summary, this fic depicts an attempted suicide (via jumping off a bridge), as well as discussions of suicide and suicidal ideation, and references to depression. please be mindful of the content you can safely handle, but rest assured all characters end up safe at the end of the fic. 
> 
> recommended listening: ['Suicide' by Isaac Dunbar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ImtRBPXdLEA), which was the inspiration for this fic

A brilliant red sunset is stretching across the New York skyline as Alec picks his way along the Brooklyn Bridge, head down, shielding himself from the suspicious glances of passing mundanes even though he’s glamoured. It seems a fitting sendoff, this violent splitting of the sky, the clouds bleeding overhead.

When he’s at approximately the highest point of the bridge, the East River a dizzying three hundred feet below, Alec hops over the railing walling off the pedestrian walkway, weaving his way through cables and beams until he’s on the outermost edge of the bridge, balancing along one long steel girder.

He takes a deep breath of salted river air, feeling his stomach swoop as wind brushes through his t-shirt. For a split second he wishes he had his bow so he could send a singular arrow arcing out into the sky, see how far it would fly before plunging into the water below.

But he won’t need it where he’s going.

Alec takes a deep breath and leans forward—

“Piss off, Shadowhunter,” a husky voice says, “I’ve already claimed this spot. Go kill yourself somewhere else.”

Alec lurches back, falling against the support beam behind him, heart hammering in his chest. He turns and squints in the direction of the voice.

There’s a man sitting on the beam, almost entirely hidden in the bridge’s shadow, legs swinging idly in the open air. The rings on his hands glint as he twists his fingers together.

“You scared me half to death!” Alec says.

He could swear the man’s lips twitch. “Isn’t that what you were going for?”

He’s not wrong. Alec sits down carefully, and it suddenly occurs to him: “You can see me.”

The man scoffs. “Of course I can. Those runes are like a beacon. Don’t know what good they’re doing you now, though.”

“No, I mean—the glamour.” Alec watches the man more carefully, and now he can see tiny blue sparks spritzing out of his fingertips every time he twists them together. “You’re a warlock.”

The man shifts and suddenly he’s in the light. And Alec’s breath catches, because he’s _beautiful._ Spiked black hair that swoops down over his forehead, tan skin that’s catching the sunset just so, dark kohl-smeared eyes that look up at him with disdain. “I’m a warlock, yes,” he sneers. “You going to push me off the bridge now?”

He’s so beautiful, and he looks so incredibly sad, and Alec’s heart clenches because he doesn’t want him to ever be so sad. Even when this man is looking at him like he wouldn’t mind if Alec spontaneously burst into flames.

“No, of course not,” he hastens to reassure him. The man quirks a disbelieving eyebrow, and looks back down at his hands, twisting one of his rings around and around. And Alec doesn’t know what’s going on in this man’s life, but he wants to—no, _needs_ to help him.

“What’s— what’s going on?” he tries weakly.

The man barks out a laugh, looking up at him incredulously. “Are you trying to _counsel_ me? Need I remind you that you came here to throw _yourself_ off the bridge?”

Alec looks from the man’s agitated hands to the water far below. “I don’t want to watch you fall.”

“Then leave.”

Alec stays put.

 _“Leave!”_ The man’s voice frays, desperate, but Alec doesn’t move.

“No.”

The man heaves out a shaky breath, shivering a little in the chilly evening air.

“What’s your name?” Alec asks, not really expecting an answer.

But he gets one. “Magnus,” his bridge companion whispers.

“Alexander,” Alec says. He doesn’t know why he gives him his full name. Maybe because it sounds less sharp, less likely to pierce the fragile peace between them.

“Alexander,” Magnus repeats, little more than a ragged breath. “If you’ve lost your passion for dashing yourself against the waves, then you should go home. You’ve better things to do than trying to save a shattered old warlock who doesn’t want to be saved.”

“No,” Alec says, “I don’t think so.”

Magnus looks at him then. “What are you doing here, anyway? I would have thought suicide was _against the law_ for the Nephilim.”

“It is. That’s why most do it by sacrificing themselves in battle.”

Magnus flinches. “Too gruesome for you?”

Alec shrugs. “I didn’t want to make my _parabatai_ watch me die.”

“So instead, you’ll just disappear and he’ll never hear from you again. How merciful.”

Magnus’s voice is a sarcastic bite, but Alec just shrugs again and says, “I mean. Yeah.”

Magnus’s sad dark eyes widen. _“Alexander_. You can’t really think that.”

Alec hunches into his shoulders, the bite of the wind suddenly very cold. “Why not? It’s the truth.”

“It’s not.” Magnus shakes his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “It’s not.”

“I know I’m supposed to protect them,” Alec says, the words suddenly spilling out of him, “my siblings, that is. But lately I feel like I’m just making things harder for them. Like, if they didn’t have me and my secrets holding them down, life would be so much easier.”

Magnus shakes his head vehemently, and Alec is startled to see tears glimmering at the corners of his eyes. “No, Alexander,” he says, “No. Their lives would be much harder without you. Believe me.”

“Well, what about you, then?” Alec challenges. “If my reasons are so invalid, what are yours?”

“I’m four hundred years old!” Magnus snaps. “I’m allowed to die whenever I want.”

“Let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that you really believe that, which I don’t think you do,” Alec starts, and watches as Magnus tenses, his hands clenching in the fabric of his pants. “There’s got to be a reason you picked today.”

Magnus sighs, deflating a little. “There isn’t a reason,” he says softly, “it just gets so hard sometimes.”

Alec understands. Oh, how he understands.

“I know,” he says, and decides to take a chance. He slides a little closer to Magnus, and then closer still, trying to keep his body language nonthreatening, until they’re almost thigh-to-thigh.

Magnus flinches, but doesn’t try to move away. His hands are twisting together again. Alec really wants to still those fidgeting hands with his own.

Closer up, he can see the shimmers of glitter falling along Magnus’s cheekbones, the delicate filigreed cuff perched on his ear, the intricate needlework in his shirt. Everything about him is so detailed and vivid, like the most lovingly-painted work of art.

But more than that, there’s a shine to him, a spark that Alec’s sure would be there regardless of the makeup, the jewelry, the fancy clothes. A spark that, even dampened as it is now, lights up Alec’s chest with its brilliance. He can’t stand the thought of that being snuffed out.

“Magnus,” he says, and he doesn’t know what to _do,_ other than that he has to do _something._ “It’s going to be okay.”

“No, it’s _not_ , Alexander.” Tears are sliding down Magnus’s cheeks, smearing his already-ruined makeup. “You don’t _know_ that.”

“I do,” Alec says, trying to inject confidence into his voice. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to make it okay.”

Magnus stills abruptly, turning shocked eyes to Alec. “You’re going to _make_ it okay?” he repeats, voice incredulous and, almost, amused.

“Yes,” Alec says. This, at least, is something he has experience with. Protecting people. Standing by them during their worst moments. He wasn’t anticipating adding a distraught warlock to that group, but he’s adaptable. “At least for tonight.”

He holds out a hand, slowly, giving Magnus the chance to move away.

Magnus latches onto him, entangling his fingers with Alec’s. His hand is trembling, and his rings are cold against Alec’s skin.

“Exactly how are you going to ‘make it okay’?” Magnus asks, and Alec’s gratified to hear that his voice sounds a little lighter. “By waiting here until I decide to get it over with?”

“How long have you been out here?”

Magnus blinks, surprised by the question. “A few hours, I think.”

“See, I don’t think you actually want to jump. If you really wanted to, you’d have been gone before I even got here.”

“Says who?”

“The guy who was already halfway off the ledge when you saved his life by startling him.”

Magnus’s whole body jerks, and he clenches down on Alec’s hand. “That was an accident.”

“Are you _apologizing_ for saving my life?”

Finally, _finally,_ Magnus’s lips quirk up into a smile. It’s tiny, fragile, but there. “I guess I am.”

“Well, don’t. ‘Cuz if you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been here to save yours.”

The smile vanishes. “Is that all you think you’re good for?” Magnus asks, and that sad look is back in his eyes, and Alec _hates_ it, “saving my life?”

“I don’t know,” Alec admits. “Maybe.”

“Oh, Alexander,” Magnus sighs, and then he shifts closer and leans his head on Alec’s shoulder. Alec doesn’t dare move, or even _breathe._

“You know,” he says quietly, Magnus’s hair tickling his neck, “if you decide not to jump, you can try and prove me wrong.”

“Well, I can’t jump _now_ ,” Magnus says, almost a whine, “I have to go find whatever bastard made you feel that way about yourself and give them a stern talking to. With my fist.”

Alec’s laugh is startled out of him. “Alright, well, while you do that, I’m going to make you some dinner. Whatever’s your favorite. And maybe a warm bath. You’re _freezing._ ”

Magnus sighs. His breath is warm against Alec’s jaw. “Excellent. We can make a date of it.”

Alec assumes it’s meant as a joke, but the way Magnus freezes tells him otherwise.

Alec says, “I’d like that.” He wants to _know_ Magnus, wants to see him when he’s not weighed down by the world like this. Wants to be there the next time he is.

Magnus relaxes again against his shoulder. “Some would say this is an unhealthy way to try to start a relationship.”

“The way I see it, we’ve already seen each other at our absolute worst. We can only go up from here.”

“If _this_ is your worst, your best must be truly radiant, Alexander.”

Alec leans his head against Magnus’s, feeling settled by the solid warmth of him against his shoulder. “What do you say we take this somewhere else? Not that I’m not enjoying the view—” he gestures to the sky, which is turning a dark, bruised purple as the sun sinks below the horizon “—but I think I’d prefer you on solid ground.”

Magnus nods, and then he’s gingerly standing up on the beam, holding out a hand for Alec to pull himself up beside him. The setting sun casts his face in soft violet planes, catching in his jewelry and the flecks of glitter on his skin, and his eyes, when he looks at Alec, are _golden,_ instead of their usual soulful brown.

“Magnus,” Alec gasps, struck where he stands by the sight.

Magnus blinks rapidly, then seems to realize what Alec’s staring at. “I— I’m _sorry_ —” he scrubs furiously at his eyes, and when he removes his hand, they’re glamoured again—and hard, guarded.

“No, don’t,” Alec reaches out to snag his wrist. “Please, don’t.”

Magnus’s eyes go wide, his muscles tensing in Alec’s grasp. He blinks, and his glamour is gone, shimmering golden eyes revealed once again. Alec reaches out slowly, enraptured by the sight, to run his thumb along Magnus’s cheekbone. The tension doesn’t quite leave Magnus’s body, but he allows it.

“Magnus, they’re beautiful.”

Magnus stares at him, tears gathering again in his eyes, and reaches up to hold Alec’s hand to his cheek.

“Come on,” he finally says, voice rough, “let’s get off this bridge.”

Alec looks out over the water, nearly dark now, and it suddenly hits him, the gravity of what he came here to do. The weight of what he almost gave up. He almost missed all of it—Magnus, and the sunset, and the rest of this evening, and tomorrow, and the thousands of tomorrows after that.

He exhales shakily, legs weak. Magnus clamps a steadying hand on his arm.

“Let’s go,” he says, “I’ve got you.”

They climb back up to the walkway, meandering back through cables and support beams until they’re on solid ground again.

Magnus turns to him, mouth open to say something, but before he has the chance Alec’s lunging forward to pull him into a hug. He crushes Magnus to his chest, relief and lingering fear chasing themselves through his body, and sags when he feels Magnus’s arms wrap around him, his hands clutching the fabric of Alec’s shirt.

“Thank you,” Magnus says against his throat, “for not letting me fall.”

Alec swallows, cupping the back of Magnus’s head in one hand. _I’m never going to let you fall_ , he wants to say, but it feels like too heavy a confession for an already-heavy evening. Instead, he just says, “Thanks for saving me. Even if you insist it was an accident.”

Magnus huffs out a laugh, and then he’s pulling away, but his hands immediately find Alec’s again in a tight grip. “How do you feel about coffee?” he asks. “I must confess I don’t really want to let you out of my sight, not when I know just _why_ you found me out there.”

Alec feels the same way about Magnus. The very idea of letting Magnus just wander off into the night is sending his heart into a panic.

He smiles down at him. “Coffee sounds great. Do you know a place near here?”

Magnus shifts a little uncertainly. “Actually, I was thinking— my apartment? I can portal us there, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Alec squeezes his hands. “I would love that.”

Magnus smiles at him, and Alec loves the way the expression lights up his face, how that sadness is slowly lifting off him, for now at least.

He pulls away from Alec’s grasp and opens a shimmering portal with an elegant wave of his hand. Then he turns back to Alec, golden eyes shining, and holds out a hand.

Alec takes his hand and lets Magnus pull him towards a glimmering future—

—and a much better kind of falling.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [tumblr](https://cuubism.tumblr.com) :)


End file.
